


What Makes it Home

by aurumdalseni (kyo_chan)



Series: Honest Reflections [3]
Category: Dreamer Trilogy - Maggie Stiefvater, Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: F/F, Honest Reflections AU, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Rebuilding, Trans, Trans Character, Trans Declan, Trans Female Character, lesbian Jordeclan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:47:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25936162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyo_chan/pseuds/aurumdalseni
Summary: After the Dreamer manhunt is over, Declan returns to her once-destroyed townhouse with Jordan to see what can be built into a new life. (Honest Reflections AU)
Relationships: Jordan/Declan Lynch
Series: Honest Reflections [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1796860
Kudos: 9





	What Makes it Home

**Author's Note:**

> I promised that I would come back with more works in the Honest Reflections timeline, and though I'm a little behind the curve, I'm happy to deliver. Please know that I assume all the Lynch siblings and Jordan will be alive at the end of the series (or I will honestly _riot_ ) so this technically takes place after the Dreamer Trilogy.
> 
> Written for day one of the [TRC wlw Week](https://trc-wlw-week.tumblr.com/), theme is "Home". I'm so excited about this week's themes, and I hope you enjoy!

Declan’s hands shook as she pushed the key into the lock. She was braced for anything. She was armed. Jordan stood beside her, half turned to face the street just in case. In theory, there should be no reason why they’d need to be ready for anything. But neither Declan nor Jordan had survived this long on careless assumptions. The deadbolt made a damning noise as it retracted, and Declan tried the handle so delicately, leaning into the townhouse with her hand close to her pistol. She looked, she listened, Jordan kept watch behind her. And after what felt like eternity, they closed themselves inside, and Declan leaned back against the door.

It looked exactly as she left it, which was to say, it was a mess. Overturned furniture, appliances pulled from their places, bullet holes marring once-pristine walls. Declan felt no love-loss for the barren lie that had been her townhouse, but it had been hers and it had been irrevocably violated. Those bullet holes were meant for her, meant for her brothers, meant for Jordan. The blood on her carpets didn’t belong to Lynches, but it reminded her that it could have been. Her breathing hitched.

“One step at a time, babe,” Jordan told her softly, putting her hand at the small of Declan’s back.

Declan nodded. “I know.”

There hadn’t been time to mitigate any of the damage. There’d been no point in calling the police. Everything looked normal on the outside while everything about the life Declan had built around her lies lay in pieces on the floor. She tried to think of that as symbolic, but it didn’t stop her stomach riling up to eat itself. Didn’t stop her from feeling sad. Just because she’d been hesitant to tear down the untruths didn’t mean she’d wanted anyone else to do it for her.

“I just woke up and decided I hated everything,” Declan said with forced levity.

Jordan smirked, catching the reference. “You didn’t strike me as the action film type.”

“Ronan loved action movies. And who was I to resist Lara Croft. I clearly have a penchant for beautiful women who could probably kick my ass if provoked.”

“Some of them could most definitely kick your ass, and you’d say thank you.”

Declan couldn’t deny that, so she didn’t even try. Instead, she cast her gaze around the entirety of the main rooms one more time. “God, where do I even start?”

“I have an idea,” Jordan said, beginning to step over some of the debris to get to the kitchen.

She made a tsking sound at the microwave’s unfortunate defeat, but found what she was looking for. Declan’s espresso machine sat miraculously untouched, a reminder of the intimacy they’d shared in their short time here. Declan joined her, smiling at the memory of Jordan’s legs framing her hips, the smell of coffee and Jordan’s perfume permeating her otherwise sterile environment. It was the first time Declan had let anyone other than family in, and all she wanted now was to make them lattes and curl up in her bed. Declan eyed the refrigerator suspiciously, doubting anything was salvageable after all the time that had passed.

“How do you feel about doing shots?” she asked casually.

“A dash of sugar will make ‘em go down a bit faster, no doubt. I’m game.”

Declan took a deep breath and went about her kitchen, pulling down two demitasse cups from the cabinet. Fortunately, the damage hadn’t gotten past the surface in her kitchen. Her dishes appeared to be intact, including her cup and mug collection, another quiet indicator there was something underneath the dull, grey surface. Her half-full bag of espresso had also survived, and she took a deep breath from the top of the bag as she opened it. There were so many cracks in the foundation of Declan Lynch, but little things she savored started to fill them in. Jordan handed her a pitcher of water, and together they pulled shots. Jordan doctored hers with raw sugar, Declan took hers straight. They kissed between pulls. It actually felt like home.

“You know,” Declan murmured, her face half-tucked into Jordan’s neck. “I don’t actually hate that couch.”

“Needs a pop of color, mate. Throw pillows?”

“Blue. You want some purple ones too?”

“Do I get a say in this?”

Declan nipped her throat, right over the heart of a rose tattoo. “Do you even need to ask?”

“It’s a fair question. I’m all in, but it’s gotta be your choice. You’ve been livin’ by the rules of other people too long. I’ll be fine if I don’t get to pick out curtains with you.”

She let that sink in, but thought her mind might already be made up. “Have you been, too?”

Jordan shrugged, which was practically a yes in Declan’s mind. Dreams and dreamers had ruled a significant amount of their existence, and now that they were both on the other side of the secrets, figuring out how to move forward was harder than living a life of lies. At least they weren’t alone.

“I want more.”

Declan said it quietly, only loud enough for Jordan to hear, but the words felt like a shout. Everything that had been trying to burst out of her buttoned up life. She’d wanted more art, more freedom, a second chance with her brothers, a place she felt safe returning to, things that were hers that other people could see. Once she’d shown a little bit of herself, she’d wanted to show it all. It was apparently a Lynch trait to crave all or nothing. Declan Lynch was tired of having nothing.

“You deserve more,” Jordan told her. “We both do. And we can start with throw pillows. See where it goes from there.”

“We might want to spackle the bullet holes first,” Declan laughed.

“Or incorporate them into modern art takes. Don’t limit yourself.”

Declan tipped her head back enough so she could kiss Jordan again. “We’re going to have some more espresso. I may kiss you for about another hour. And then I need to make a plan.”

“Sounds like you already did.” Jordan cupped Declan’s face in her hands, kissing her back soundly. “Welcome home.”

Declan hummed against her mouth, but didn’t argue. It wasn’t quite home just yet.

But it would be.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I can be found at my [TRC blog](http://oldkingyounggod.tumblr.com) or my [spicy TRC blog](http://athoughtfulking.tumblr.com). Feel free to come say hello or make a request, if you like. Thank you for reading! 
> 
> [Honest Reflections main story](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23566651/chapters/56539102)   
>  [HR/trans Declan aesthetic board](https://www.pinterest.com/crimsonchimera/inspiration/hrdeclan/)


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